


how they love the sporting life

by keptein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7537399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I wanted some privacy,” Kei says, hoping Bokuto will take the hint and go away.</p>
<p>Bokuto gapes as if Kei’s said something scandalous, face reddening. “You were <i>jerking off?!”<br/>
</i>
</p><p><i>“What,”</i> Kei says, more of a squeak than anything else. “No! Not that kind of privacy!”
</p><p>“Oh,” Bokuto says, and then he covers his face, red as a tomato. “Oh, man! That was so inappropriate! I’m so sorry, Tsukki!” He gets down on his knees in front of Kei, begging. “Please don’t report me for harassment! I’m so sorry!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	how they love the sporting life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vagarius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vagarius/gifts).



> here u go, vagarius! i decided to write bokutsuki from your list of requests, and tried to add some kageyama and bokuto interaction. i hope you enjoy!

Training camp is not a place for privacy. Kei knows this, and any idiot could guess it - if you stuff an area with as many sweaty teenagers as you can, they are going to get everywhere. Like lice, or ants. Or other things that regularly are subjects of the verb ‘infest’. There’s people wherever Kei turns - in the gyms, outside, in the bathrooms, in the sleeping room. People.  _ Everywhere. _

There’s only so much Kei can deal with. There are a few people he generally doesn’t mind being around, but he hates being surrounded by conversation at all times. At least most of Karasuno knows not to expect a response, but the other teams aren’t that wise.

More on that later.

Kei catalogues his thoughts like an essay, he knows. Topic for topic, argument for argument. It brings cohesion and stability amidst the chaos, especially on trips like these. A whole week of training, and no -  _ no _ \- privacy. 

It’s a painful environment.

*

On day three, Kei spots a ray of hope. They’re done for the day - Tanaka and Nishinoya are off causing trouble, while the rest of Karasuno has splintered into individual training or downtime. Kei is left alone for the first time, and he refuses to be roped into any extra training by nefarious, unfamiliar captains.

_ Captains, _ Kei thinks to himself with a snort. Kuroo and Bokuto remind him more of excitable first years than anything, although at least Kuroo is able to command the respect of his team. Bokuto, while a semi-decent volleyball player, can’t even do that.

Kei finds a quiet spot to relax, out of earsight of everyone. He slides his headphones over his ears in a vain attempt to deter anyone that may stumble over him, enjoying the silence and breathing it in.

He gets ten minutes of blessed quiet before there’s a familiar, annoying cry. “Tsukki!” Kei doesn’t turn.  _ Play dead, _ he tells himself. Maybe Bokuto will be stupid enough to think he’s turned to stone and leave him alone.

“Tsukki, hey!” Bokuto comes to a stop before him, waving avidly and gesturing for him to take off his headphones.

Kei waits for thirty seconds, watching Bokuto’s movements become stranger and stranger until he relents and pushes his headphones down around his neck.

“Listening to music that loudly isn’t good for you, ya know?” Bokuto says with a smile. “You couldn’t hear me at all, and I’m pretty loud!”

“I know,” Kei says. “Thanks.”

“So what are you doin’ out here, anyway?” Bokuto looks around. “It looks boring, and there’s no one else here…”

“I wanted some privacy,” Kei says, hoping Bokuto will take the hint and go away.

Bokuto gapes as if Kei’s said something scandalous, face reddening. “You were  _ jerking off?!” _

_ “What,” _ Kei says, more of a squeak than anything else. “No! Not that kind of privacy!”

“Oh,” Bokuto says, and then he covers his face, red as a tomato. “Oh, man! That was so inappropriate! I’m so sorry, Tsukki!” He gets down on his knees in front of Kei, begging. “Please don’t report me for harassment! I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t call me…” Kei trails off, looking away. Annoyingly, he can feel that his own face is hot, his neck even hotter. “It’s fine. Get up.”

Bokuto stumbles to his feet, looking imploringly at him. “Really? It’s okay? You won’t tell anyone? Please don’t tell Akaashi!”

“I’m not going to tell Akaashi-san,” Kei says, mostly because he doesn’t think he could tell anyone of this incident without embarrassing himself in the process.

“Oh,  _ thank you,” _ Bokuto says, sitting down on the same rock as Kei. Even though they’re not touching, Kei can feel the heat coming off of his body.

It’s warm, he reminds himself. Of course everyone is hot, and Bokuto is no exception. “Aren’t you busy practicing?” he asks, shifting away minutely.

Bokuto sighs mournfully. “Kuroo’s tied up talking with Yaku, and Akaashi is done.”

“Done?”

_ “Done,” _ Bokuto says emphatically.

“I see,” Kei says, and moves to put his headphones back on.

“Wait!” Bokuto reaches out, fingers wrapping around Kei’s wrist to stop him. His fingers are hot too, and the grip is firm. “Don’t you wanna hang out or something? If we’re both free…”

“If you don’t mind, I’d really prefer to be left alone,” Kei says shortly. He knows Daichi would scold him for being so rude to a captain, but it’s Bokuto, who seems unable to take a hint. Bokuto doesn’t count.

Indeed, when Kei looks at him, he doesn’t seem hurt in the slightest, grinning that perpetual, insufferable grin. “Aw, c’mon, Tsukki, you look like you need to have some fun.”

“Don’t call me Tsukki,” Kei sighs. “I can have fun by myself.”

“We already established you weren’t doing that!” Bokuto says, then laughs loudly at his own joke. “Besides, two people are more fun than one in either case - a-ah, not that I’m hitting on you! Oh, God, that would be incredibly appropriate, I’m so sorry, I promise I wasn’t.”

Bokuto looks so sheepish and concerned that Kei can’t help a snort of laughter, covering his mouth. “You really don’t think before you speak, do you?”

“I like to think it’s charming,” Bokuto says, smiling again as his shoulder relax. “So? Do you still wanna be left alone?”

Kei nods. Bokuto slumps, face falling. Kei pauses, expression pinching at what he’s about to say. “If you get another person, I’ll practice with you in an hour.”

“Really?” Bokuto asks, face lighting up. “Hell yeah! I’ll go ask around, see if I can’t get at least a setter.” He gets to his feet, grinning happily. “It’ll be awesome, I promise! I’ll be back in an hour, don’t forget!”

“I couldn’t,” Kei says. The sarcasm rolls off Bokuto like water off a duck’s back - his smile doesn’t even dim for a second, Kei notes.

Bokuto leave, half-running back to the camp, and Kei breathes a sigh of relief. Extra practice doesn’t mean he cares. There was nothing else that would’ve sent Bokuto away, and Kei can put a stop to it after ten minutes.

It doesn’t mean he cares.

*

When Kei lies down on his futon that night, his body is a mess of bruises and aches, and his mind is busy replaying lines in Bokuto’s voice. Kei is too tired to decipher why, and he’s way too tired to tell whether they’re real or imagined - he falls asleep to the sound of Bokuto, uncharacteristically softly telling him to relax.

*

It’s after midday the following day, the next time Kei sees Bokuto. Kei is standing with Kageyama and Yamaguchi, a lost and unhappy triumvirate, and Bokuto hails them down with a wave and a big grin, Kuroo and Akaashi in tow. “Hey, hey, Karasuno! Play with us!”

“Yes,” Kageyama says immediately, before Yamaguchi or Kei even find the time to open their mouths.

“Awesome!”

“I, eh, I kinda have to go,” Yamaguchi tries, shooting Kei a nervous look.

“Tsukki, tell your friend not to be such a wet blanket,” Kuroo says with a smirk. “C’mon, you all need the practice if we’re beating you at Nationals, right?”

“Big words for someone who’s never qualified,” Bokuto interrupts before Yamaguchi gets the chance to reply.

“We’ll be there,” Kageyama says, face set in a frown. If there’s one thing Kei can appreciate about Kageyama - albeit begrudgingly - it’s how predictable he is. “And we’ll beat you.”

“We’ll see,” Kuroo says, smirk widening and eyes lighting up. Everyone here hungers for victory, but Kuroo and Bokuto take it to a new extreme, relentless in their pursuit of it. It exhausts Kei just to see it. After all, it’s just a game.

“We’ll play you,” Kei says finally, and Yamaguchi looks at him with wide eyes. “But three first years against upperclassmen is imbalanced.”

“It’s all good, I’ll be with you two!” Bokuto comes over to slide an arm around Kageyama and Kei’s shoulders. They both freeze up, and Kei gives Bokuto a not-so-gentle nudge to make him pull away.

“You’re with us, then,” Akaashi says, looking at Yamaguchi. “You’re Yamaguchi, right?”

Yamaguchi nods, giving Kei another worried look. Kei shrugs in response. Kuroo wasn’t wrong, technically - and playing with strangers could be a good experience for Yamaguchi.

Kei, Bokuto and Kageyama win three games in a row before Akaashi puts a stop to the matches. “Sore loser, ‘Kaashi! If you can’t take the heat, get off the court!” Bokuto calls, jeering.

“You had several advantages,” Akaashi points out, and Bokuto sticks his tongue out in response. “And we agreed to meet Yukie-san in five minutes.”

“Oh, yeah,” Bokuto says, looking sad. “But hey! Good game! You’re an awesome setter,” he tells Kageyama, then grins at Kei. “And you’re starting to not suck. Just put your heart in the game, that’s all that’s missin’.”

“Whatever,” Kei says, too rudely - Yamaguchi gives him a reprimanding look, but Bokuto doesn’t react. Kei wonders how a person like Bokuto is even possible. Strong-willed but vulnerable on the court, and so steadfast in his personality off it, a sureness that must be - and at the same time  _ can’t _ be - fake. 

Kei looks at Kageyama. He’s confident too, but in a completely different way. So is Kuroo, confident in his team, and Akaashi, confident in his captain. Even Yamaguchi is starting to believe in his own abilities and his role on the team. They all take pride in this sport. Kei doesn’t, and he’s starting to wonder whether there is any point to that at all.

Akaashi, Kuroo and Bokuto leave, the Karasuno first years left staring after them. “Bokuto-san is the fourth best spiker in the country,” Kageyama says. “Asahi-san should learn from him.” Kageyama’s thoughtless insults usually make Kei smirk, but his head is too full of cluttered thought processes to fully register the conversation.

“Asahi-san is a great spiker,” Yamaguchi protests.

“But Bokuto-san is better.”

“He’s not exactly flawless,” Kei says, jaw working for a moment. “He’s a terrible captain.”

“Is he?” Yamaguchi asks. “But his team really likes him…”

“They’re National level,” Kageyama says. “And Bokuto-san’s ability on the court is more than enough to qualify him for captainship.”

“You wouldn’t put Asahi-san in charge, would you?” Kei says. For some reason, this subject is getting under his skin. They should agree with him about Bokuto, see what he sees - a cocky, inept captain. “Just because someone is the ace doesn’t mean they’d make a good captain.”

“But Asahi-san would make a good captain,” Yamaguchi says. “Just because he’s not as stern as Daichi-san doesn’t mean he’d be a bad captain.”

“This conversation is stupid,” Kei snaps. “Daichi-san is our captain. Bokuto may be a decent player, but a captain should handle his team, not have his team handle him.”

Kageyama hums, finally agreeing. “But as a spiker -” he starts, and Kei lets out a short, sharp exhale.

“Yamaguchi. We’re going.”

“Uh, okay,” Yamaguchi says, following Kei as he walks away from Kageyama. “That was rude.”

“I don’t care.”

Yamaguchi sighs, acquiescing the point, although there’s a sheen of disappointment in his eyes that makes anger and shame trickle down Kei’s spine, makes his fists ball tighter and his footsteps fall heavier as they walk away.

*

Kei wishes intensely for that to be the end of it. Like most things Kei truly wishes for, it does not come true. Neither Yamaguchi nor Kageyama are eager to let it go, their argument over Bokuto and team captains and the structure of a team, as if Kei gives a goddamn  _ shit _ about the structure of any team.

Karasuno works fine. That’s all he needs or wants to know.

“Kuroo-san’s team works together better.”

“Does it? They haven’t ever gone to Nationals.”

“It can still be a good team -”

“If the players aren’t able to go to Nationals, what’s the point in having a team at all?”

“So Karasuno is useless because we weren’t able to go to Nationals?”

Kageyama’s voice turns low. “We  _ will.” _ He looks like the crows of their name, ready to peck out eyes and devour.

Again, this hunger for victory. It tires Kei. “Whatever.”

*

There’s a quiet, late moment the next time Kei sees Bokuto. He’s outside, getting some fresh air before lights off - the figure of Bokuto sitting on the steps is surprising, and even more surprising is that he’s alone, not accompanied by any of the other members of Fukurodani that usually swarm to him. Kei intends to just walk past him, not especially impatient to break the silence that’s fallen along with the dusk. It’s summer, too much so to get dark, but the twilight serves well in lieu of black nights.

“Hey,” Bokuto calls out. Kei stops. “That you, Tsukki? What are you doing out?”

“Just getting some air,” Kei says.

“Cool, me too,” Bokuto says. For a second, Kei thinks - hopes - that that will be the end of it. But, as always, with Bokuto… “How’s your training coming along?”

“Fine.”

“Mine too. Ours, I mean, Fukurodani…” Bokuto exhales, a heavy breath. Kei watches him with raised eyebrows. “Can I ask you something?”

“What,” Kei says. It comes out colder than he intended, sharper, and Bokuto looks so tired and uncertain that Kei almost wishes his edges were less serrated.

“You think I’m annoying, don’t you, Tsukki?”

“You’d be less annoying if you didn’t call me Tsukki.” Again, he almost wishes - but he won’t change who he is.

Bokuto slumps, sighs, looks away. Kei tries not to notice. “I figured. Y’know, I like you. I think you’re funny. But I’ll leave you alone if you really want me to.”

A pause. Kei doesn’t reply.

“Tsukishima-kun?” Bokuto asks. He sounds young. He certainly doesn’t sound like a captain.

“... it’s fine.”

“It’s fine?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. I’m used to it by now.”

“Eh,” Bokuto says, smiling a little. “You sure have a way with people, Tsukki-kun.”

Tsukki-kun; an odd, unflattering compromise. Kei catches himself not minding. “Ah… because you’re great with people, senpai.”

“I am,” Bokuto says proudly, before he squawks. “Hey, you were bein’ sarcastic! That’s no fair!”

Kei laughs behind his hand, and Bokuto’s expression melts into a grin, happy and tired. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Bokuto waves a hand. “I’ve got thick skin.”

Kei hums quietly in agreement, although Bokuto is famed for being excessively vulnerable. He is a contradictory mess of character traits, features that shouldn’t work but do.

This is not news. “You headin’ to bed?” Bokuto asks. “You gotta make sure you get enough rest. First year, I was way too wired to sleep, and my play definitely suffered for it.”

Kei opens his mouth to answer,  _ yes, of course, I know how to take care of myself. _ Instead: “You make yourself more annoying than you are.”

Bokuto blinks. He stares at Kei, who stares back. That was unplanned, to say the least. “Huh?”

“You’re not actually very annoying,” Kei says, but then he feels like he’s said too much, and he needs to move away from Bokuto’s gaze, bright and golden even in the dusk. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Bokuto calls after him. Kei doesn’t look back as he hurries back into the building.

*

So maybe - just maybe - Bokuto isn't the worst captain participating in the training camp. He's still not  _ good _ , no matter what Kageyama says about his volleyball prowess (or his ability to 'gwah' and 'fhum', as Kageyama puts it), or what Yamaguchi says about him being the heart of his team. Everyone keeps throwing these metaphors at Kei; he's the brain of the team, he's the heart of the team, we are the body's blood... But a team isn't a body, it's just a team, and everybody needs to stop thinking that a team is anything more than a group of acquaintances with a common goal.

Everybody needs to stop thinking that, but especially -  _ especially  _ \- Bokuto, who refuses to treat his team for what it is, instead acting like it's some kind of found family, a picturesque idea of after-school activities like they're something  _ more,  _ but they're  _ not. _

Kei's fists have balled into tight fists, and he feels drained with the weight of his anger and exasperation. He hasn't heard the last ten minutes of Tanaka-san's speech, but he doesn't doubt it's more of the same - more of this illusive 'more' that everyone but him seems to experience.

No, that's not it. It's not there. They're wrong.

They're wrong, it's as simple as that.

"Tsukki?" Yamaguchi asks afterwards, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you tired? We're only here for a couple more days," Yamaguchi says, as if to reassure him. Kei grimaces. "Have you been sleeping properly?"

"No," Kei says. "I hate this."

"Eh," Yamaguchi says -  _ eh, _ like Bokuto does, and why on Earth is Kei associating something Yamaguchi does with Bokuto, instead of the other way around? "You don't really, though, do you?"

Kei turns to stare at him, eyes narrowing.

"You keep saying yes to Bokuto-senpai's invitations to play," Yamaguchi points out, and Kei almost bites through his own tongue. It's always Bokuto's fault.

All of this is Bokuto's fault. "It's the only way to get him to leave me alone."

Yamaguchi looks at him, pity mixed with something else. Kei grimaces and turns away, adjusting his glasses. Everything is Bokuto's fault.

*

Kei has a certain way of approaching things. A way of working them open, studying them, debating whether they’re worth his time - it’s a rational way to deal with things, and it’s measured, and it’s easy. It’s easy to see what’s going on from a distance. It’s easy to remove himself from others.

Bokuto defies this, as he defies most things. Yet another thing that’s his fault. Bokuto doesn’t let Kei remove himself - he doesn’t let himself get picked apart and understood, but he doesn’t let himself be dismissed either.

It’s not even that Bokuto seeks him out. They just keep bumping into each other, Fukurodani and Karasuno - or just the two of them, Kei and Bokuto, on the way to the bathroom, during breaks, after meals. “Oh,” Bokuto will say, or, “Eh, Tsukki-kun, slacking off again?” or he’ll laugh his stupid laugh and ask Kei to practice with him after they’re done.

It’s not  _ even _ that Bokuto himself is irrational, but the fact that when he asks - “hey, Tsukki-kun, come practice with us later?” - Kei somehow, irrationally says yes. That’s the worst part. Kei never considered himself a stickler for reason, or anything like that, but Bokuto so clearly, so  _ shamelessly _ defies whatever rules and logic people use to interact, and he does it all with a damned grin.

It’s annoying, and it’s confusing, and it makes Kei feel wrong-footed and uncertain, unable to expect what will come next. Bokuto is…

There’s only so many times Kei can think the same thing; Bokuto is a mystery.

But somehow he’s unable to just accept that and move on. Bokuto demands to be understood, to be solved, even though Kei swears that he couldn’t care less.

Bokuto is… interesting.

That’s all.

If that even is anything.

In the end it doesn’t matter - tomorrow is the last day of training camp, and then Kei is on the bus back to Miyagi, and Bokuto will stay in Tokyo.

And that - that truly is all.

*

There’s an odd feeling hanging in the air on the last day of camp. Relief, tension, exhaustion, energy - the conflicting emotions at show make Kei want to pull his headphones over his ears and drown it all out. Unfortunately, his headphones are safely packed away in his bag, along with the rest of his belongings. They’re taking the bus in the evening, but Kei finished packing before breakfast. He feels restless, but he doesn’t know  _ why _ … things are supposed to be over now. He’s supposed to be calm and eager to go home and sleep.

Before lunch, Karasuno play Fukurodani. It’s a crushing defeat as usual, and Kei lets his mind wander as they do the flying leaps, looking over at where Fukurodani is gatheredd. Akaashi-san looks to be talking, probably going through the game - which is a thing Karasuno should do too, but Kei doesn’t care enough to suggest it - and Bokuto…

Bokuto meets his eyes, making Kei’s motions stutter for a moment. They both look at each other, surprised, too far away to speak, but unable to break the other’s gaze.

After a moment, two, three, Bokuto blinks and gives Kei a wide, genuine smile, and then he turns back to his team.

“Tsukishima!” Daichi calls, and Kei gets up to join the rest of Karasuno.

*

The sight of Bokuto stays with Kei, as much as he tries to dismiss it. His smile, the odd way his eyes widened as their gazes met, the way he turned towards Kei for a moment before moving away.

Kei is no idiot. He knows what this means - what it  _ might _ mean, he corrects himself. He’s spent a week completely devoid of privacy, and he doesn’t have the energy or will to think about something like this. He’d never considered…

He had a suspicion that he subconsciously tolerated Bokuto, because he never seemed actually able to turn him away, but something like  _ this? _ It feels surreal and out of place. Yes, Bokuto is handsome, very determined, and - occasionally - amusing. He’s not the worst person in the world.

Neither is he the only one. He also lives in Tokyo, and - Kei is just going to brush all this off as some hormone-induced attack and forget about it. Once he’s back in Miyagi, it will pass.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. Kei shakes his head to clear it, then looks at him.

“Yes?”

“You looked deep in thought. Are you happy we’re returning to Miyagi?”

“Yeah,” Kei says. “It’ll be nice to be alone.” Yamaguchi nods. A lesser friend might be offended, but Yamaguchi knows he doesn’t really count as company. It’s one of the things Kei appreciates most about him.

“And Bokuto-senpai will stop bothering you,” Yamaguchi says with a slight laugh.

“Yeah.” Even Kei can hear that his relief sounds empty and forced. Yamaguchi blinks, but doesn’t comment on it. Yet another one of the things Kei appreciates - Yamaguchi usually knows when to let things lie.

“It’s been nice to be here too, though,” Yamaguchi says. “I’ve learned a lot. The whole team has.”

Kei hums noncommittally.

“Even you,” Yamaguchi teases. “From Kuroo-senpai and Bokuto-senpai, right?”

“Some,” Kei says. He pauses, then continues reluctantly, “they’re not bad teachers.”

Yamaguchi laughs, surprised. “Even Bokuto-senpai?”

“Don’t tell Kageyama,” Kei warns. “He’s already insufferable.”

“I won’t,” Yamaguchi says, smiling. “I’m glad you’ve had a good time. Made friends.”

“You’re not my mom, Yamaguchi, so stop sounding like her,” Kei says with exaggerated irritation, smiling a little when Yamaguchi laughs again.

*

They’re waiting for the bus to arrive when Kei hears him. Kei’s bag is packed and resting at his feet, headphones around his neck, but even if they were over his ears he wouldn’t be able to miss the familiar call of his name.

Yamaguchi elbows him in the side to make sure he hears, and Kei straightens as he watched Bokuto come closer. Bokuto looks vaguely distressed, hair down and damp. He comes to an abrupt stop in front of Kei, inhaling deeply to catch his breath. “Thank God, I thought you guys had left already.”

Kei’s eyes, traitors that they are, linger on the sight of Bokuto’s chest as it expands. “We’re waiting on the bus,” he says, quickly looking back up.

“Cool, cool,” Bokuto says. “Can I talk to you? Just for a second, yeah? Won’t be long, I promise.”

Kei hesitates, looking over at a confused Yamaguchi.

“Please,” Bokuto says, and Kei shrugs and acquiesces. Bokuto leads him to a small alley between two of the school buildings, made even smaller by the row of big black garbage bins lining the walls. Kei glances at the bins, then gives Bokuto a look.

“Listen, it’s the only place with some privacy,” Bokuto says, flushing. “I mean, there are some - rooms, but Akaashi’s got the key, and he wouldn’t let me - anyway, uh…”

“What is it?”

“I was wondering, uh - like, no offense, but you like dudes, right?”

Kei straightens, narrowing his eyes. Bokuto doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to start homophobic brawls on school property, but…

It’s hard to swallow, suddenly. What will Bokuto say? ‘I’ve caught you staring and you’re disgusting’? Kei sniffs, opening his mouth. “What’s it to you?”

“Ah! Oh, shit, I forgot - well, you see, I do,” Bokuto says, and gives Kei a wide grin. It’s not as cocky as it usually is, wavering with uncertainty at the edges. Bokuto’s voice rises with false bravado. “So, if you - if you are, too, I was - was wonderin’ if I could get your number? We could LINE… or something…”

Kei stares. Bokuto trails off, and his grin fades, shoulders slumping with disappointment.

“I mean, I know it’s like three hours from Miyagi to Tokyo or whatever, and I’m sure you’re busy too, I’m super busy, but - I mean, I’m not gonna ask you on a date or anything, but I wouldn’t be opposed either, you know -”

“I can’t think when you’re babbling,” Kei interrupts. Bokuto shuts his mouth immediately, brow creasing in worry.

There’s a moment of silence as Kei thinks hard, then Bokuto squares his shoulders, looks at Kei and asks, “so what do you say?”

Kei looks at him. He can’t reply now - he needs to think about it, weigh the pros against the cons. He needs to analyse all of this, to see whether it’s worth the effort. Any premature promises would just hurt them both, so he needs to think… “Yes,” his mouth says without permission. “I can give you my number. Add me on LINE.”

“Really?” Bokuto’s eyes are large, his pale eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he blinks at Kei.

Kei clears his throat, looking away. “Yeah.”

“That’s fucking  _ awesome,” _ Bokuto says, and he does indeed sound awed. He fumbles his phone out of his pocket so fast he almost drops it, but he recovers and hands it to Kei.

Kei types in his number, not looking up. His ears are warm.

“I’m not gonna ask you on a date,” Bokuto says again, just as honest. “‘Cause of the distance. But I really wanna.”

Kei gives him his phone back, meeting his gaze. Bokuto looks earnest, uncertainty having given way to that characteristic resolve.

“So can I kiss you?”

Kei blinks. “...what?”

“Can I kiss you?” Bokuto asks again, and he’s neither flushed nor stuttering, his gaze calm and determined. “On the mouth, I was hopin’, but the cheek is good too. No one can see us, I promise.”

Distantly, Kei hears coach Ukai calling his name. He needs to go, but he’s still rooted to the spot, trying hard to swallow his “yes” before it escapes.

“Can I…?” Bokuto’s voice is low. He starts to lean in, still watching Kei, watchful for any sign of discomfort. Coach Ukai calls his name again, and Kei inhales unsteadily, bending slightly to meet Bokuto’s lips with his own.

They’re chapped, dry, warm, nice, and there’s no  _ time _ \- Kei moves away, his whole face feeling hot. Bokuto’s eyes are closed, and as he opens them again he’s almost mesmerising, smiling at Kei. 

“I have to go,” Kei says.

“Okay. I’ll text you - wait, let me walk you back.” Bokuto places one hand on the small of his back as he guides him out of the alley. The gesture feels shockingly intimate now, even though Bokuto has touched him similarly all week…

Oh, Kei thinks.

Bokuto drops his hand as they come into view of Karasuno, the bus now parked by the team. “I’ll see you later,” he tells Kei, and he’s grinning again. The grin looks too obvious to Kei, broadcasting their new, shared secret, but no one else is reacting, so he lets himself relax.

“Bye,” Kei says. Bokuto salutes him, and then he turns around to walk back to his school. 

“What did he want?” Yamaguchi asks, watching Kei watch Bokuto as he walks away. 

“Nothing,” Kei says. “He'd just forgotten to give me something.”

“Hmm,” Yamaguchi says. They get onto the bus, and he lets Kei have the window seat. Kei stares out at the Fukurodani school, for once unable to form coherent thought - his fingers are thrumming with excitement, and his phone feels hotter than normal where it rests against his thigh. He wants to be able to feel immediately if it buzzes. If his mother messages him..

Or someone else.

“I'm glad you made friends,” Yamaguchi says. “I did too.”

“I know,” Kei says. “They're not a bad team.”

“None of them are,” Yamaguchi says, and Kei realises his error a split second too late - but Yamaguchi doesn't do anything, just gives him a small smile and looks away, letting Kei put his headphones on without seeming rude.

After almost an hour, his phone buzzes.

**From: Bokuto Koutarou**

> sryyyy akaashi had us do more cleanup n then i had 2 help my mom ASAP when i came home Dx this is tsukki rite??

**To: Bokuto Koutarou**

< Yes. We're still on the bus.

**From: Bokuto Koutarou**

> o ic!!! ill leave u alone then i always get travel sick when i look @my phone on the bus. txt me when ur home??? :D x

**To: Bokuto Koutarou**

< Okay.

< X

Volleyball is still just volleyball to Kei, but for once it isn’t bothering him. He puts his phone away with a small smile, looking out the window.  For the first time since he can remember, he looks forward to Nationals.

 


End file.
